Seven Ways 'Till Summer
by Dr.GOD
Summary: Welcome to paradise, June 1985. Naive sophomore Adamina Seward and her parents are holidaying in a certain seaside town, their first trip in as many years. When her stagnant parents allow Mina to explore the boardwalk alone at night she jumps on the chance. And that's when things get weird. (dwayne/oc, slight au. cannon compliant.)
1. In The Summertime

Everyone with half a brain and a TV set has heard that saying "if you put monkeys in a room with typewriters and give them an infinite amount of time, they'll reproduce the collected works of Shakespeare." Same goes for teenagers with booze, only they don't usually make it to Shakespeare. They usually wind up repeating their parents mistakes.

Those kids spend the rest of their lives in the same town they went to high school in, or if they're lucky they might go to college. They'll get a degree, and they'll go find some sap to marry and the pair of them will live happily ever after in the same town they got their first job in, and pop out some kids of their own. Eat, sleep, work repeat.

That's pretty much the story of how my parents met, and had me. And they're great, really they are. Fun, hard working and surprisingly handsome. Mom has some serious crows feet and Dad's not exactly Hollywood, but I'm pretty sure he used to be. There are all these photos of him in Mom's books – she stashes photos in her favourite novels, it's kinda cute. Well, they used to be really handsome, anyway.

And somehow, they made me. My aunt told me they tried for a long time to have kids. Maybe it's not so "picture perfect production line", but it's dull either way.  
All we do is school and work and monopoly and save and save for god-knows-what.

Well, apparently it's a holiday to some dull, ugly, beach town four hops up the coast. There's a roller-coaster and some rides on the beach; stalls with people selling shirts and fridge magnets and jewellery and ice cream and corn dogs.  
But we're not there. We're probably not going anywhere near there.

We've been in the motel for two hours now, Mom's showering and Dad's reading some book on Navy manoeuvres in the second world war. I've checked every channel and every weather update; they all keep telling me that I'll need sunscreen and it's blistering hot outside. I don't know why anyone from California comes to another town in Cali for a holiday, It's like home, only without your own bed.

That means seven days of sunbathing and dinners and early nights – that's what we did last time we were on holiday.  
At home I go out after dinner and watch movies with my dumb small time friends or go drive somewhere and watch some dude with long hair and an attitude skateboard badly. Either way, nothing happens.

My Mom was dressed now, nudging me to go get ready, so we could 'soak up' some sun.  
Not that Dad or I need the sun – mom's pale white and red haired, covered in little pink freckles and so pretty I bet dad didn't know what to do with her back in the day. Meanwhile, we're both dark skinned, dark haired.  
Dad's a mix of Native American and West Indian, and this great colour, like thick caramel, with big brown eyes and a smile that goes from one ear to the other when he's actually happy.  
I know cause in all those old photos where they look really handsome together, he's smiling.  
So I'm just like Dad, only this lighter colour somewhere in-between caramel and sand. But I do have great, big thick black hair that can do pretty much any style.

It's strange being mixed in a place like Santa Carla – when we drove in, I didn't see a single person darker than the average white-boy beach tan. Maybe if I 'soak up' enough sun I'll tan enough to really look like Dad?

Half an hour later we were on the beach, Dad still reading, Mom was laying back on a beach towel, arms spread out, relishing the sunshine as if she'd never seen a warm day in her life.  
The smell of cotton candy and burning fried foods wafted over to me from the nearby board-walk. Distantly, I could hear the sounds of the carnival rides and excited kids.

"Mina, sweetie, relax, we're on holiday!" Mom cooed from her place on the sand. I shrugged and settled down next to her. The beach was uneventful, and I cursed myself not bringing a book or my walk-man or, something.

A group of scraggly teenagers rushed past us, carting surfboards towards the water. T-shirts and hot blondes alike drop in an awkward trail behind them, littering the sand with the blazing day-glow slogan of "My Beach, My Wave!"  
Dad grunted his disapproval and flipped the page, and Mom twitched visibly - the same twitch she gives when she sees my bedroom floor-drobe. I can feel them both inhale, about to start their mutual commiseration over the poor manners of the inconsiderate local youth.

Holding back a groan, I decided to make an escape attempt before things got bad.

"Hey uh, can I go get some drinks or something? It's way hot out here. We could all use some water." Desperation does funny things to you. If they made me stay on that beach one second longer I might die. Once they start the never stop. You know how it is.

I'm pretty sure they can see the cartoon sweat drop rolling down my face as I sit up and force my shirt over my curly black hair.

"Oh, sure Honey. There's some money in my purse. Don't be long, though."Mom sighed, shifting on the sand until she's propped up on her elbows. Primed to complain about "kids these days" as soon as I'm gone. Dad doesn't even blink, just flips another page.  
I grabbed the cash and bolted off back towards the line of stores and stalls lining the seafront.

Three bottles of water were easy enough, and I decided to make myself aware of what else the quiet muddle of shops could offer. A hot-dog stand, the tiny convenience store, a shop renting out inner tubes and a couple of amusements, a long arcade tunnel I'd have to explore later and a video store.

Video Max was airy, with big wide open doors, and a glass front. It had trendy décor and rows of shelving. Behind the service desk, a girl with skin like polished mahogany and hair that made my mess look flat, filed paperwork. She looked as if she was about to expire. I could guess why – the shop was empty. Clearly everyone who might have come in was soaking up the summer sun on the beach.  
I decided to mill around quickly – maybe I could convince those two old goats back on the beach to rent a tape some night, instead of us all going to bed early.

The girl behind the counter pricked up instantly as I slipped into an isle filled with cassette boxes for brat pack movies. Breakfast Club, Oxford blues, St. Elmo's fire was the newest. I knew all my friends back home loved these movies.

"Hey, you need any help?" The girl I noticed at the till made her way over to me, eyeing up the movies and then my dark sweater with it's ugly band logo printed across the front.  
"no, thanks, that's OK, just looking." She smiled as I spoke, "Gonna try to get my parents to come back up later. Might have to drag them."  
She laughed lightly at my joke, and shook out her hair.  
"Sure, but who needs videos in this town, when you've got the boardwalk, right?"She half-smiled and moved to go back to the counter.

"Me apparently, since we won't go near the boardwalk." I muttered, moving the little bag that held the water bottles between my hands. The girl turned around again, looking a bit bewildered.

"Huh? You say somethin'?"The question was only half intended, I guessed, from the way she turned back to the filing.  
"nah, sorry, just mouthing off about the fact the two fossils on the beach won't let me go near the board walk."I tried to laugh it off, but really, what sixteen year old didn't want to go hang out on the beach and ride the roller-coaster?

"Huh. Yeah I had a pair like them when I was your age, before I came here. Maybe if you come back with 'em, I can convince them to let you go hang out there for a while? I'll tell them I'm going with you. Parents dig that holiday friend stuff." She winked and I knew I had to come back later.

"Thanks, uh... I'm Mina, by the way."I called back as I headed for the beach again. Behind me I heard her yell out "Maria, kido!"

Maria, the girl from the video store, kept her word. And she did her damnedest, but my fossils wouldn't budge.  
"Sorry Maria, maybe if you're not working one day you can hang out?" Dad's attempt at mediation wasn't fooling anyone. "But I don't like the idea of Mina being out with a stranger, sorry, after dark. Especially not in a strange place."

Maria and I exchanged a look past my dad, and I just sighed. She nodded and said that was ok, and we sure would hang out one time and that we should all come back soon.

I didn't mean to, tried not too, but I was dragging my feel the whole way back to the motel after dinner.  
I mean I'm sixteen for Christ sake! Most sixteen year old girls would be out on that boardwalk in a flash, raising hell with some boy.

But instead we had rented a copy of "Somewhere in Time" and bought a bag of microwave popcorn.

"Look honey, I get it, you made a friend and you want to go have fun. But it's not safe."Dad sighed, looking back over his shoulder at me.  
"I know Dad," I mumbled, kicking a stone.

That started off what can only be described as the most passive aggressive argument anyone has ever had. Mom stepped in on my side, and freed me from the tyrannical grasp of Stalin the second!

"You mean I can go, like without you?"I was two seconds away from jumping out of my clothes with excitement. This had never happened before. I could see the headlines now: 'Breaking News! The Tyrannical dictatorship of the OLD FART is over! People of the World rejoice!'

I darted back to the motel for a quick change of clothes – jeans shorts, crop top and my favourite denim jacket – and I was out of the motel and on the waterfront again. I knew I had to be back be ten thirty, just like back at home, and it was already eight – I didn't have long to see this place. And god only knows if I'd be allowed back again.

I ducked into the video store to let maria know about our little triumph. She seemed happy for me, and we chatted for a while – she offered to grab some food with me when she got a break.  
And that's about where it all got weird.


	2. Disappearing Strangers

**A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited. I have a writing schedule for this, and besides hiccups for upcoming exams, this story will update every tuesday, and on bonus weeks i might update on Friday as well. **  
**Please read, enjoy, and review if you feel like it! **

Beach towns are always full of strange people.

The group of teenagers who walked through the doors of Max Video right then were no exception. Five guys and one girl, all dressed in garish neon shirts and surf shorts, the girl with fluffy sun-bleached blonde hair. Their shirts featured a grubby, hand done print that read "my beach my wave."  
the spread out through the store, one or two of them going to the isle I had been in that afternoon. Maria tensed visibly as the began to pick up the empty cassette boxes and compare the titles.

"You ok? I'm gonna go over here for a sec, let you work..." I trailed off as I wandered into a random aisle in view of the counter and the door.

Strike One.

As I skimmed my fingers over the covers of some ugly action movies, I watched the local idiots continuing to browse. One of them had come to the counter, he was trying to chat up Maria.

I was so busy watching the surf-head try to impress Maria, I didn't register his friend walking behind me until he'd put his arm around my shoulders.

"Hey there chika, you new in town?" He sleazed, leaning towards me. His hot breath on my face smelt like pizza and stale beer. Someone needed a breath mint or two hundred.

"Dude, please leave me alone..." I shrugged his shoulder off and pretended to be really interested in what was in the next section. Some big new release, a summer blockbuster, the next must-see!  
He wasn't giving up that easily.

"Aw c'mon, let me show you around? We don't get girls like you in Santa Carla too often." he grabbed my arm a little too tight to turn me around right then.

'Yeah, I'll bet you've never seen a mixed girl in your life' I kept my caustic comments to myself and tried to get back out of his grasp. His hand tightened on my arm and I began to protest as he tried to coax me into following him out of the store.  
"Let go!" I yelped. The fear in my voice was clear even to me

"I promise we'll have lots'a fun, baby," He sneered into my ear, trying to make me 'lighten up.' He pulled my arm harder as we neared the door, and I tried my hardest to get Maria's attention, but she was too busy trying to fend off the other idiots who were clearly trying to fleece the place to spare me any attention.

"Hey get off!" I whined as his grip tore at my arm.

"I wouldn't do that here if I were you, Jake."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the whole store changed.

My new 'friend' stopped hopping long enough to glare at the speaker – a peroxide blonde teen in a trench coat – before stomping off to find his friends in the brat-pack section.

I mouthed a "thank you" at the stranger, but he'd already started talking to Maria at the counter.

Where I decided I needed to be.

This new stranger with his new-wave spiked hair wasn't like anything I'd seen around Santa Carla yet. He was more together than any teenager I'd ever seen.  
He couldn't have been more than eighteen, but he had the air of someone twice that age. And apparently he was here to see whoever was in the office.

"Hon, maybe you should go actually see the board-walk. Come back in a half an hour and we'll go get something to eat together?" Maria suggested, shooing me out of the door, one eye on the door behind which the strange boy had disappeared.

I decided to take her advice before the ass-hat from before got any more ideas, so I took a wander down the beach front. There wasn't much going on at this end of the beach, the pier was mostly quiet, a few stores and restaurants, and a closed down boat hire.

I passed a few jugglers and fire eaters – always impressive, even if I couldn't bear to think what it did to your insides. And I walked right into the buzzing arcade, all bright lights and glaring noises.

Strike two.

There they were, outside of a comic book shop nestled in the far corner of the covered stalls and coin-toss games. Five guys and a beach blonde girl. One or two of the feigned interest in titles inside the mouth of the store, while the others grabbed at comics and made a dash for the door.  
By the way they moved, it was clear this was a regular occurrence for them.

My sleazy friend from the video store lingered further down, a little closer to me.

A body jostled me and I fell forward with a loud curse.

He spotted me then, on the floor. His face changed, he looked more predatory. 'Time for round two, bud?' I thought as I dashed between a group of tourists and kids, 'catch me if you can!'

Bolting between stalls and games I found myself hidden away beside a Taffy machine, panting, before I dared to think I might have lost him. I watched the machine pull the thick sheets of taffy back and forward, strand upon strand folding in on itself.

"There are better things to see around here than that."The voice in my ear was low and fast, and so near I was sure that the speaker was right next to me, but as I whipped around all I found was the new-wave teen from the video store three or four feet away.

He smirked repulsively at me. But at the same time I was relieved because I knew that the surf slug wouldn't dare come after me. That toad had been scared of the strange blonde.

His trench coat swayed as he turned and moved away. I almost snorted at his arrogance. I took two steps forward before I realised I was about to follow a stranger.

"Like what..." I murmured.

"Like the carousel..."

And he strode on again.

I'm not sure why, but in that moment I knew that following him would be the worst decision I would make that night, and the best.

"What's your name?"  
"I'm David." He shot back over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from between thin lips.  
"I'm Mina" I muttered, "Thanks for asking."  
And after that we walked silently about a foot apart.

We walked like that down the length of the board walk, him leading and me following. Right down the board walk until we stopped in the midst of a crowd.

And then he was gone.

Calliope music broke through the stale air and the roar of the wooden roller-coaster.

"Great, jeez, just leave me here then, huh?" I muttered to myself as I kicked at a stone on the walkway. Had I walked into some sort of phony trap? Did the locals get off on making us towney-tourists look dumb?

Bodies were less densely packed at this end of the boardwalk. People were no longer forced to walk on on top of one another.

The crowd began to thin as the calliope music grew louder and louder. The air at this end of the boardwalk was heavy with the sickly smell of cotton candy and fresh sweat.  
And there it was right in front of me. I pushed by a young couple to get closer to it, the carousel.

The old carousel was mesmerising. I stepped towards the low railing and the horses began to spin and dance. Really beautiful old carved beasts twisting this way and that, heads raised and thrown back, racing one another. Children and adults riding along on their backs in elaborately painted carved wooden saddles, clinging to twisted gold bars.  
I was hypnotised by the spinning figures, and the ride was almost over again before I noticed.

I'd been so busy watching the horses bob up and down but he must have been there the whole time.

The first word that came to mind when I noticed him was "gypsy." He had dusky skin, long raven-black hair and a kind of sad expression. He wore an embroidered jacket, and leaned with ease and laziness against a horse halfway round the carousel, watching the world rotate past him.

The carousel continued to turn, and before I could blink twice he was gone again. The ride spun twice more and surely enough he had disappeared like smoke in the wind.

Seems like this town was full of disappearing young men.


	3. Kitten

I stretched out the next morning in the little hotel bed, limbs creaking, and remembered the night before. I could still smell the thick sea air and sugar on my skin. I'd gotten desperately lost after seeing the carousel and by the time I found the video store again I'd had to go home.  
So Maria and I had promised to hang out tonight instead – if I could shake off 'my people' again.

I smiled lazily thinking about the possibility of returning to the boardwalk tonight. Maybe I could find those disappearing gypsies again.

As it turned out, 'my people' were already gone – when I finally fought my way free of the sheets, I found a long since cold offering of toast and a quick note on the little bedside table.

"Mina – Gone to lovely park for the day. Left $20 for you in Dad's grey socks. Won't be back till late, don't get into trouble! Have fun and remember your sunscreen! Love, Mom.  
p.s – NO BOYS!"

Typical Mom.

I liberated the twenty and headed for the beach.

The sand was already pulsing with activity, the waves coaxing more and more of the sun worshippers from their lazy towels and sun loungers. In the daylight, this resort town was as soft as kitten's fur.  
Maybe that's down to the sun, maybe it's the sea air. Sea air does strange things to people. Makes them feel more free, more open. The people in Santa Carla were world away from the cloistered, ugly suburban fence sniffers of my pastel little home town.

Faces greeted me as I wandered around the beach-front, passing the bright, loud diners and tourist stores. I ducked my head in to the video store (Maria was busy) and then decided to explore the covered arcade – maybe grab something to eat or just check out some of the smaller shops.  
Most of the game stalls I'd seen the night before were closed, it was only around one in the afternoon.  
Around an hour later, chomping my way through a corn dog sent from heaven, I noticed that more and more of the stalls and stores were opening. A shop advertising tattoo and piercings, another selling hand painted t-shirts.

As I sauntered through, intent on going back tot he motel for a long nap before hitting the boardwalk that night, doors and shutters rattled as owners opened up water gun and ring toss games.

Two weedy looking kids around ten or eleven watched me from the counter of a comic book store, both decked out in camoflage, rambo-style. Behind them their hippie hash-head parents leaned on the wall, dead to the world. Don Henley's "Boys of Summer" drifted from another store down the line and stayed in my head all afternoon.

During the day, this town was all sunshine and easiness.


End file.
